Unknown
by journeyintales
Summary: Unbeknownst to anyone, Snape is not the only one who begged the Dark Lord to spare Lily's life.


**QLFC, S5, round 10. Arrows CHASER 1 - prompt: One Sweet Day — Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men.**

 **(word) luminous, (restriction) No character names, (word) remote**

 **The Golden Snitch forum - Prompt of the day: (opening sentence) Once upon a time... . (main character) a villain.  
\- ******Ollivander's Wand Shop** : ****Write about a Gryffindor character.**

 **word count: 1088**

 **Beta(s): Sam**

 **A/N I know mice's vision is different from ours, but please bear with me on this.**

 **Enjoy :)**

* * *

 _Once upon a time there was a mouse_ , someone may say in the future, but for now, to him, the past is still too close and doesn't belong to a fairytale.

Days — even weeks — have passed from that huge explosion that cost twelve Muggles their lives and him a finger, but the mouse is still running, his little legs hurting and aching, his lungs too tiny for the huge amount of air he needs, his heart mercilessly beating against them as if to break through them.

He's out of breath.

He's tired and aimless.

And yet he runs — runs like he never did, as if one thousand attackers were on his tail.

He resists the impulse to turn around. He knows that no one is behind him — he can get glimpses of his surroundings when he's in his mouse form — but something is still running after him anyway. He can feel it: haunting ghosts and a past that will always be too close to becoming remote, even in one million years.

It doesn't matter how quick he is; _they_ will always be quicker.

It doesn't matter how much time elapses — to the point where he'll forget his own name — _they_ will always be at his side, unwelcomed.

And so the mouse runs, leaving only his soul behind, at the mercy of the vultures, and hoping to be found and saved from the fate he knows he'd deserve but is not ready to face.

.

When the sun's luminous rays land on flaming red hair, even his hopes arise and shine bright, only to violently crash down when he realizes that there are too many red-heads and the eyes don't match.

 _They_ are not _her_. None of them is. They couldn't be.

He's dreamed of her every night since he met her that reality and fantasy blur together into a forlorn picture. He's wanted her so much that his loyalty grew thin until it faded into nothing.

.

 _Her green eyes were shining like diamonds._

 _She leaned over and kissed him on his cheek before running away to find her boyfriend — one of his best friends — leaving him there, in the Common Room, his hand on his cheek, a dreamy look in his eyes._

 _He stared after her, her flaming hair bouncing on her shoulders._

 _._

He'll always remember her like that: smiling, happy, vibrant… _alive_.

.

" _Can we talk," he said to her._

 _Once again, they were alone in the Common Room, and she was explaining some topic in Charms to him — not that he remembered._

" _Tell me." She smiled._

" _I-I don't even know where…" He gulped. "... where to start."_

" _It doesn't matter. You can ask me anything." Her eyes softened, and he had to avert his gaze to be able to focus.  
_

" _E-Every time I see you, every time you look at me, I feel guilty…" His voice broke there. "I — I can't do that to him, he's my best friend — he's —"_

 _She took his hand, squeezing it in comfort and understanding, and he felt lost._

 _._

His Lord promised him, promised he would spare the _Mudblood_ 's life — the mouse wrinkled his nose at the rude word — and now, his master and his angel have both gone to a place where he couldn't follow.

There were still so many unsaid things, so many hopefully sweet moments to share.

.

" _The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it," he said. It made sense at the moment._

 _He took her in his arms and softly kissed her on her lips, conveying into it as much love as he could without feeling a traitor and a coward for acting behind his best friend's back._

 _He felt her stiffen in surprise, but then she put her hand into his and squeezed it as she kissed him back._

 _When they disentangled from each other, he felt something bitter and hot in his stomach; he had just betrayed_ —

.

Just like then, he can't even think of their names without feeling stabbed in his chest.

That's what stopped him from saying anything back then.

But now… now he regrets it — regrets his silence. It would have been easy; it could have been easy, had it not been for —

Inappropriate laughs reach his small ears, and he realizes that the red-headed family is still there.

He looks at them intently.

Two children are trying to climb over a tree as two identical kids torment what looks like their older brother, dirtying his robes and book. Anyone else in this child's place would scream and maybe get revenge, but not this one; he looks at his brothers, a warning in his eyes, and he gets up.

The little twins glance at each other and burst out laughing as one of them mimics their older brother.

The child huffs and goes to a red-headed woman — his mother? — who glares at the twins before pulling out a stick; the mud disappears…

 _Of course._

The mouse wonders how he did not realize it before; red hair, a lot of children, poor (now that he takes a better look) — there's just one family in the whole wizarding world that meets all the criteria, and, on top of it, it's a pureblood family — right what he needs.

A plan starts growing in his mind as he observes the carefree and notoriously welcoming family.

It shouldn't be difficult to get accepted — even without a finger and a little worn out for the long journey, he knows he can still be likable, especially to children.

As he tries to decide which one is safer to approach — the twins are excluded obviously — he notices that the child who seems to be the most pedantic and responsible one is now wandering on his own.

Using his little legs to get his nose clean and wearing what may be considered a cute expression, the mouse starts making his way towards the kid and towards a future that, he hopes, will be bright enough to chase aways his past shadows.

The child spots him and smiles.

The mouse stays very still until he feels those little, soft hands carefully wrapping up around him, and finally smiles, thinking of another red-hair girl who was just as delicate and kind.

This must be her doing; he can't think of anyone who's been so gentle to him.

She must have forgiven him.

 _Thank you, my angel_.


End file.
